His warm brown eyes were on me all night, and they’d all but melted away my ridiculous slut act.
Every once in a while, it was like he was feeding me schmaltzy lines, but I had to admit that he was a lot of fun to be around. Then again, that was probably because I craved that kind of relationship. You know?
Like I was romanticizing everything he did and said because I was thirsty for it.
Crazy people do that to reality. I was for sure crazy, and even though I’d given up on my floundering ho skills, it felt like I could just tell him the truth.
Well, some of the truth—I may have fudged about one tiny thing.
Nevertheless, after that night, who would give a fuck if the waffle extravaganza was actually delicious, and that I’d lied so I’d have something over him? My fingers had been crossed under the table. I’d let him believe I didn’t like my food and use it as sexual ransom.
So. Fucking. What. I had needs.
Besides, I’d have plenty of time to visit the Waffle House on my own and eat the whole damn plate. He’d be none the wiser.
Hell, maybe afterward that night—and after some time to lessen the awkward—it would be fun having someone to talk to at all the couple-slash-wedding things in our immediate future.
In my really fucking immediate future, I was going to see about cashing in on how he owed me one.
Cord had his act down to a science. He was both charming and charismatic, which only reminded me of what giving up on playboy men would offer me, and it drove home that I was making the right decision.
That did nothing to erase the fact that I was crazy attracted to him. From how the small booth made him look even bigger, to the sexy glimmer in his eyes when he laughed, and, after all, he was right there—within reach.
See my trouble? It was impossible to not want him.
But we were adults, and, bearing in mind it clearly wasn’t leading anywhere, why waste time pretending? And, since he was cool and easy to talk to, I was just going to lay it out there for him again because he’d sort of dismissed my sexual invitation at the restaurant—when I found the right time.
Problem was: I was running out of time and in danger of saying fuck it, going home, and indulging in a naughty fantasy starring him and my hand.
The second—and most alarming—problem was: This little spot just under the collar of his shirt where I could see just the smallest part of his clavicle and a few chest hairs.
And his big hands.
And giant feet.
And the faint smell of whatever cologne he was wearing.
And he had a fresh haircut—you know all perfectly trimmed up around the sides and back.
And, odd as it was, there was this tiny sliver of a bald patch in his left eyebrow that I was intimately curious about.
In short, he did all the right things for me visually. I was a shallow two-bit hussy, but my need to jump the hell out of the tall, sexy, blond man was legit.
None of you bitches would have blamed me or stood a chance either. Trust me.
The Waffle House got busier since most of the bars in the area had closed, and soon we jumped back into the waiting cab. With each mile and turn, my anxiety doubled. I didn’t want to miss my chance. He returned us to The Mill parking lot and pulled up right next to a big black truck.
Cord leaned in and said gently, “I’m sober. I promise.” With one hand on the door, he grabbed mine with the other. It was unexpected causing my heart to race, and I nearly pulled away.
Hot guys usually aren’t the hold your hand type of dudes, so you can imagine my shock.
“You can take this cab home, if that would make you feel better, but I’d like to drive you there myself.”
I wasn’t sure how much he’d drank, but I’d completely sobered up. Additionally, it would buy me more time—and probably more problems.
I said, “Okay,” but it was very quiet, and I doubt the driver even heard me.
My throat was tight for some reason. I thought maybe I’d been getting a cold. My chest had felt weird all night, and I’d noticed hot flashes a time or two. Sweaty hands. Mild shortness of breath. Watery mouth. Dry lips. Wet panties—which was a new cold symptom for me, but who knows what’s floating around out there.
Would I be putting him in danger by having sex with him?
Ah. He was a big, strong man; he’d survive. I just hoped I would.
Since I hated giving directions and he had a GPS, when I was settled in his passenger seat, I plugged my address in and hit go. Wasn’t technology a blessing?
For all the balls I’d had earlier in the night, they’d sure shriveled up and drove down to the Keys. We stayed silent for the entire ride. Before long we were pulling up in front of my building, a huge townhouse that had been divided into three apartments—a basement, ground floor, and upstairs unit.
“This is where I live,” I said like a predictable fucking idiot.
Dana, how old are you? You’re a mature adult. Okay, an adult. There’s no shame in asking for what you want.
Yes, I’d do the adult thing.
He stretched his neck to check out my building through the windshield, and even his freaking neck tendons were striking.
I swallowed and took a breath. “Want to walk me to the door?”
Cord silently agreed and started to get out, but left his truck running. After his feet hit the pavement, I leaned over, turned off the ignition, and pulled out his keys.
While he held my truck door open for me, I stepped down and pressed the lock button. He didn’t say anything, but when he ran a hand over his flexing jaw, he seemed conflicted.
I didn’t let it deter me, and I walked up the short sidewalk with him right behind.
At my front door, I caught my breath again and asked politely, “Would you like to come inside?”
Although he still didn’t speak, his eyes were bombarding me with questions.
I felt woozy as I waited, but reminded myself I could do this. I could ask for what I wanted. He could always say no, and that would be that.
I persuaded, “The way I see it, I went all the way with a waffle—for you. Now you owe me. I’m not going to be a clingy chick. In fact, we never have to mention this night again. The thing is I want you to go all the way too—with me.”
In my defense, that had sounded way sexier in my head on the way there.
His eye brows lifted with his forehead, and he shifted his weight, putting one hand in his jean pocket. “Did you really just say that? It was literally the cheesiest line I’ve ever heard.” His smile lit my stoop, it was so big and white.
“Yeah. I know.” I couldn’t be offended or deny it, so I continued. “I don’t usually do this, okay? But I’m on the shot, I have condoms, and I’m clean.”
Living in 2017 was so romantic.
His expression was still hard to read. Jaw flex here, neck stretch there. His lips tight, he scanned my face through squinted brown eyes.
I was so damn nervous I thought my hands were going to shake right off my arms, but I’d already gotten that far. There was no turning back. “It’s just that I’ve made some life decisions lately, and I’m making a few big changes” I took a deep, courage summonsing breath and jumped off the cliff. “But first I want to have sex with you. Tonight.”
“Like a sex change?” he asked, and I nearly choked. That certainly wasn’t what I meant.
“No. Not a sex change.” I didn’t feel like getting into all the specifics or whatever at my door. I shook my head. “The changes don’t really matter. What matters—right now—is that I’m very attracted to you, and I’d like you to come inside with me.”
He scratched the back of his neck again.
“Basically, I want to hook up.” I’d never been more uncomfortable, never went out on a ledge like that.
Also, why in the fuck wasn’t he jumping at the offer? I’m no ten or anything, but I was a solid six or seven. Any other guy would have already had his hand up my shirt.
We stood there on my front porch next to my door, and it felt like hours were passing by.
Then there was a shift.
His warm caramel colored eyes grew dark, and his chest seemed to swell with each deep breath. Someone more intense than the man who’d been charming me appeared, and it was thrilling.
He took a step toward me and slumped to lean closer to my face, then he ran his thumb over my bottom lip. My eyes fell shut, but just for a second.
It felt so nice, but I needed to let him know he didn’t have to do all that wooing stuff. It would only complicate … well, everything.
His fingers slipped around to the back of my neck, and the contact made me feel like I needed extra support to hold my head up. His touch was just as intoxicating as his appearance.
“You don’t have to do all of this, Cord.”
His lips weren’t far from mine, but he still hadn’t kissed me. His breath sweetly tickled my face as he sighed.
I whispered, “I’ll be yours tonight. No empty promises. No sweet nothings in my ear. Just sex.”
I swallowed, and then lifted my gaze to meet his, but he was locked on my mouth. The heat from his stare dried my lips, enough that they needed licked. He was watching, so it felt like slow motion or like it was orchestrated, but the truth was they tingled where he’d touched them with his thumb. They begged for more attention.
When I wet them, he made an mmmm sound low in his throat.
In an effort to get closer to his mouth, because he was so much taller than me, I lifted up onto the balls of my feet, but it only got me a fraction closer since I was already wearing heels.
I was compelled to jump, attack him, but not on my porch. “Let’s go inside.”
I slowly broke the connection and opened the storm door which he held open as I unlocked the wooden door. Then his hand swept my hair off my neck to the side, and I felt two hot lips kiss the space where my neck and my left shoulder met.
Again, he made that sound.
Again, my eyes fluttered. The sensation of his mouth on me was heady, and I crooked my neck giving him more room to explore. My breathing became shallow, and I was lightheaded from the combination of him and the lack of oxygen.
After fumbling with the key for longer than I ever had before, the door was finally open. When I stepped forward, a hand met my hip, and he came with me step for step. I heard the screen door latching behind us followed by the sound of him shutting and locking my front door, which proved it was really happening.
All the while, his mouth never left me.
I was going to have the hottest sex with the even hotter Cord Taylor. Then I was going to grow up, lower my standards, and find someone who I was compatible with on more than just one level.
Sadly, I doubted they’d ever make me feel the way he did.